


Seeking Guidance

by beastlybat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is an Awesome Influence, F/F, Fluff, Relationship Advice, Surrogate Dad Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlybat/pseuds/beastlybat
Summary: Claire calls Dean during a Bunker movie night for some dating advice, fluffy goodness follows.
Relationships: Claire Novak/Patience Turner
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: SPN Rare Ship Bingo 2020





	Seeking Guidance

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’ed by dooms. Bless her. This fic fulfills my Claire/Patience square on my SPN Rare Ship bingo card. You can find me on tumblr at beastlybat.

It was a calm evening for the Winchesters: movie night in the bunker. Dean loved these rare, peaceful moments almost as much as he loved a hard-won hunt, but he’d never admit that aloud.

He wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge when the melody of Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water halted him mid-action. He closed the door to the fridge with a nudge of his elbow, setting one of the beers on the counter so he could fish his cell out of his pajama pants’ pocket. He answered the call immediately, he giving himself about a second to process the caller ID.

“Claire?” Dean greeted, voice tense and full of concern, “What is it?”

“ _Wooah!_ ” Claire replied, sounding amused but a little off, “Lose the dramatic ‘hello’, everything is cool I just…uh—”

“Jody?” He asked, cutting her off.

“She’s good.” Dean nodded despite Claire not being able to perceive the gesture through the phone.

“Alex?” He went on, turning to press his weight against the edge of the counter. He crossed his legs at the ankles and tossed the lid of his beer into the trash can across the room.

“Fine. _Dean_ —”

He could tell she was getting annoyed, but that was nothing new. For his peace of mind, he continued on, “Donna?”

“As peppy as ever…”

“Whatshername? Missouri’s grandkid?”

“Patience, Dean, her name is Patience and that’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about, but…can you promise you aren’t going to make a big deal out of it?”

“Me? Make a big deal out of something? Who do you think you’re talking to, kid?”

“ _Dean_.”

“Claire.” Dean deadpanned back before chuckling, “Yeah, okay. I won’t. Now lay it on me, what’s up?’

“Okay, so….you’re fighting a djinn, right?”

“You’re losing me here. What’s the question? You know how to gank a djinn.”

“I’m not asking that. Look, I know it’s hard for you, but just shut up and listen for a sec, alright?”

Dean smiled fondly against the lip of his beer before taking a quick swig, “Okay, okay. I’m listening.”

“ _Like I was saying_ , you’re hunting a djinn and you get sucked inside your dream world. But...how do you face up to it? I mean, knowing that reality is probably going to suck that much worse after you get free. When all this time you’ve been thinking you could have…something, something you really want...”

Dean was focused in on what the girl was saying, following her logic but not quite getting her point, but he still noticed Sam as soon as his brother rounded into the room holding the giant plastic bowl they’d been sharing popcorn from.

“And you know, while you’re dreaming, that it’s not real or anything, but you can pretend, right? Buy into the possibility….” Claire continued in a rush of tangled teenage whatever.

Sam gave him a look, that confused puppy look that was so utterly Sammy. He mouthed silently, asking Dean who he was talking to. Dean covered the cellphone with his hand and whispered, “Claire.”

“Everything okay?” Sam whispered back, shuffling around the bunker’s kitchen to make more popcorn.

Dean nodded and zoned back in on the girl’s rant.

“Do you really _have_ to take the plunge and face reality or…is it, maybe, better to just keep living the dream sometimes? Even if it isn’t actually real…”

“Doesn’t matter. ‘Course you have to break free, the son of a bitch would win otherwise. Come on, Claire, you know this.”

Sam arched an eyebrow in his direction and Dean waved his hand dismissively in answer. His brother shrugged and turned to leave with the fresh popcorn but didn’t clear the room before Dean could hurl the bag of peanut M&Ms at him. He struggled not to laugh at Sam’s affronted bitch-face when he glared at Dean.

“Yeah, but what if...I don't mind if they win...what if I kinda want us both to win...?” 

“If it’s not real, it’s not real. And the reality of it is, if you don’t kill it, it’ll keep killing others and that’ll be on your head. It’s not worth it. _Wait_. Repeat that?”

"I said...what if I want us both to win?" Claire says the words slowly, like she's talking to the dumbest person in the world.

"You and the djinn?" He asked, needing clarification, because this was getting weird.

"Yeah..." The hesitant squeak was immediately followed by an audible wince.

"Are you out of your mind?! You find a djinn; you kill the djinn! End of story, Claire!"

The girl groaned through the call causing a vocal fry that had Dean pulling away from the phone's speaker to wince, "-at's not what I meant! I'm _not actually_ talking about a djinn, dumbass!"

"...It's not a djinn? Then what the hell is it?!"

"Not what. _Who_."

"Come again?"

"Ugh, you're really dense. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Gee, thanks." And okay, she's right. He should have picked up on the fact that they were having two very different conversations sooner. He knew this play; he'd used it plenty of times himself. It was a solid strategy for avoiding emotional heart-to-hearts. Not that it'd ever really worked out for him any better than this phone call was going... 

"I'm asking you for dating advice." She grumbled, "Trying to, anyway."

"Ohhhhhh, I see. So...the djinn is actually..."

"Patience."

"Patience, right. Why are you askin' me? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to help, but...Why me?"

"Who else am I supposed to ask? Jody? Castiel? One of them would give me a three-hour _thorough_ sex talk... _again_...and the other is hopeless when it comes to this kind of stuff...So that leaves..."

" _Me_. Yeah, I get it. I'm touched. Really." Dean considered defending Cas' honor by insisting that he's not _so_ bad—he'd actually gotten surprisingly good at understanding human emotion over the years—but decided against going there. He was actually kinda glad Claire had brought her drama to him. It'd been a while since he'd gotten the opportunity to hand out advice like this and honestly, he enjoyed it. It made him feel good; needed, helpful. No reason to point out her better options...

"Patience, huh?"

"Yeah...but I don't even know if she likes me like that. Or any girls like that actually..."

"You're not gonna know until you ask, kiddo."

"But what if-" Dean didn't let her finish.

"Then you move on and things go back to normal in a couple of days, tops. No harm, no foul, but if you don't—then you're gonna drive yourself nuts. It's better to just go for it. Trust me."

"Sure, you make it sound soo easy." Claire huffed into the receiver. 

"Why shouldn't it be? Just ask her out. Don't get stuck in your head."

"Okay. Fine. I'll ask." Claire paused and Dean was about to wish her luck when she asked, "But then what? What if she says yes?"

Dean laughed, he couldn't help it, and Claire didn't appreciate it based on her disgruntled harumph, "What do you mean? You can't tell me you've never been on a date!"

"Shut up!" Dean's laughter turned to a snort, "I've had better things to do. Hunting seemed more important."

She had him there and Dean felt a little guilty giving her a hard time. Alright, time for the real advice.

"Be yourself but focus on her. You're interested in her; don't be afraid to show it and don't feel like you have to go with the classics. Dinner and a movie is great and all, but not that memorable and it doesn't really seem like your style. Anything can be a date. Don't put too much pressure on it. You can always do what you usually do together. Don't worry about it not feeling special or whatever, it will. But hey, word of advice: don't call someone you have a thing for a djinn. Chicks don't like being called monsters. Usually."

"You're the worst." Claire laughed, sounding more like herself and less anxious, "Thanks, Dean."

"Anytime. Like I said, happy to help."

"Okay, let's end this before you make it any more embarrassing."

"Me?! I'm giving you golden trade secrets here!"

"Uh huh. Whatever, old man. But seriously, thanks, Dean."

"Don't mention it. Let me know how it goes."

"Yeah, okay. Tell everyone I say 'hi’. Love you guys."

"I will. Take care. And Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"You got this. Go get 'em, tiger."

" _Bye_ , Dean!"

Dean grinned at the phone, snapping it shut and shaking his head. He grabbed the other beer and headed back out to the others where they were crowded around the television, watching Night of the Living Dead. Not the remake, but the original black and white flick. They'd have to watch the remake too, but the original was first on the list. If Jack was going to fall in love with zombies, he needed to be properly educated on the pop culture just as much as he needed to know the actual lore which was that there wasn't any. Zombies just weren't a thing. 

He flopped down on the couch, reaching forward to hand his brother one of the bottles. 

"S’Claire alright?" Sam asked, grabbing the beer. He was too preoccupied being worried to complain that it wasn't that cold anymore.

"Yeah." Dean chuckled, not offering any further explanation. He watched as Jack, who was sitting crossed legged on the floor, tilted his head one way and then slowly in the other direction as the horde of zombies gathered around the house the protagonists had barricaded themselves inside of.

"Did she need help with a hunt?"

"Oh, she’s squaring off with a monster, alright. The scariest monster of them all."

Sam turned to him, giving him a patented confused puppy face and Dean fought back another snort of laughter. 

"Hormones, Sammy," He elaborated, "Teenage _hormones_."

Sam made an agreeable sound in understanding, practically tossing the bowl of popcorn into Dean's lap. 

"Don’t you go gettin’ any ideas!" Dean said, catching Jack's eye, "I can only handle one lovesick teenager at a time!"

"Claire isn't a teenager, Dean." Sam pointed out in that matter of fact, poindexter voice of his.

Dean knitted his eyebrows together and pantomimed counting on his fingers for a moment, "Whatever. Still!"

"And I'm only three." Jack piped up, turning away from the tv.

"Shut up!" Dean sounded, exasperated, "You both know what I meant! Watch the damn movie!"

He crunched a mouthful of popcorn and peanut M&Ms and the sound was almost loud enough to block out their responding laughter. Almost.


End file.
